


where the heart is

by eludis



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:02:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28891065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eludis/pseuds/eludis
Summary: Ushijima surprises Tendou for Christmas. Shameless fluff more toothrotting than Tendou's chocolate addiction
Relationships: Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 80





	where the heart is

**Author's Note:**

> A secret santa gift for @Tendou5atori on Twitter

Sun spills over the littered horizon of Paris, slamming into Satori’s window with a familiar yet still decidedly awful ferocity. His beautiful, _entirely_ not-at-all-functional paper blinds did nothing to stop the angry glare of sunlight being diffused into his bedroom. He rolls over to check the clock by his bedside. _6:01AM._ An hour before he would've awoken on a normal work day. 6 hours before he should be awake, today of all days.

He sighs and stares at his ceiling. The paint there was chipped when he moved in, showering him in paint flakes whenever his upstairs neighbour decided to have their weekly attempt at pulling their life into order and exercised at 3am. The little apartment he rents is far too expensive for how drab it was, but it was only two Métro stops from the Rue du Bac. Between a sub-par interior décor situation and the daily vice press of human misery that was the Métro, Satori knew how to pick the lesser of two evils.

The noises of a city awakening are unfurling outside his window, more sedated given the day that it was, but still humming away, nonetheless. He can hear the street sweeper rumbling away and the insistent beeps of the garbage truck. Falling back asleep now seems a fruitless pursuit. He heaves himself out of bed, trudges in pursuit of happiness and coffee, one and the same.

There is a lame duck feeling that comes with being alone on Christmas. It mattered less when he was back in Japan, the extent of the celebrations back home had been remembering to book a KFC order so they could all crash Goshiki’s. But here? Christmas was a time for _family_ and _loved ones._ After a month of pitying looks from his co-workers whenever he smiled tersely and informed them- _no, he was not doing anything on Christmas, yes it was a real pity that his plans fell through ah no thank you for the invitation I’ll be fine alone yes I’ll take the time to work on a new recipe Merry Christmas to you too-_ he was about to McFucking lose it.

_Gah. This sucked._

He drops six cubes of sugar into his coffee and stirs aggressively.

Toshi was meant to have arrived last night. They were _meant_ to go to giggle at the sappy couples wandering the streets of Paris like lovestruck fools. Counting how many of them slipped on the sleeting ice and used some variation of the “I’ve fallen for you” line. Satori should know. He’d used the same sentiment on Toshi on their first date. It was highly cheesy and therefore highly effective.

They were _meant_ to have dinner at GOOGLE A NICE RESTAURANT, wander like sappy fools themselves until they conveniently found themselves outside Satori’s store.

 _Oh!_ Satori would’ve said. _What a surprise! Since we’re here anyway then you should come in!_

And wham. Bam. Boom. He’d make a beautiful dessert just for Toshi and they’d kiss with the glow of Parisan lights behind them and Toshi would say “you’re sweeter than any treat” and Toshi would go home with him and maybe he could talk Toshi into letting him bring the chocolate into the bedroom too and-

A soft click startles Satori out of his thoughts.

_Someone just opened his front fucking door what the **fuck.**_

Satori freezes, then quickly ducks behind his kitchen counter. There was an intruder in his home. On **Christmas.** This was catastrophically, cosmically, calamitously unfair.

Muffled, heavy footsteps now patter across his floorboards. Headed straight for the kitchen.

_What the fuck what the fuck._

He could crawl towards his kitchen knives, but it was possible the intruder could just use the knife against Satori. Or that the intruder was already armed themselves. Why would anyone come into the kitchen? Surely they should be ransacking his house for cash already, instead of sneaking with soft footfalls towards where he was hidden behind the kitchen counter.

There was nothing for it, he’d have to go with this plan. The coffee in the mug he was grasping, knuckles white with stress, was lukewarm but if he threw it in the intruder’s face then he’d have a chance to run past and escape his apartment to call for help.

He hears the tell-tell creak of his kitchen door swinging open. With a furious scream he leaps out from behind the kitchen counter, flinging the coffee from his cup as he charged at the intruder.

Ushijima Wakatoshi stands in Tendou Satori’s kitchen, sopping wet with coffee soaking into his hair, dripping onto his sweater.

Satori knows he must be gaping like a fish. Toshi had said…He’d said…he wouldn’t be able to come for Christmas…and Toshi was an awful liar.

No, wait. Now that Satori thought about it, it was Tobio-kun who had rung and told him that the Adlers had a special training camp, which would span over Christmas. Now that Satori thought about it some more, Tobio-kun had sounded just a little bit more monotone than his usual self, almost like he was reading off a script.

He’d been pranked. Oooh boy was he glad Semi wasn’t here to see it.

“Merry Christmas Satori.” Toshi says, unbothered. He is wiping coffee out of his eyes, and Satori cannot help but stare at how the dark coffee refracts the morning light on Toshi’s pale green lashes. For someone who had just flown for 12 hours, he looked like he always did, which was to say _gorgeous as all hell_ and _absolutely devastatingly adorable._

“Why are you here?” Satori says, going to grab a towel to help Toshi dry himself.

“You live here, and it is customary for me to stay with you when I am visiting.” Toshi responds. He takes the towel Satori is offering with a soft smile. “If you would like me to stay elsewhere, I’m sorry to say that I cannot. It is Christmas. Every hotel within 10km of here is booked.”

“I never said you had to leave, but I thought you were off doing intense secret training right now.”

“Ah. It was Romero-san’s idea.”

It was very unlike Toshi to throw someone under the bus like that. Satori’s curiosity was piqued now.

“He says it is romantic to surprise people in Paris, which,” Toshi says, voice muffled as he removes his sweater, “seems now to have proven itself profoundly untrue.”

Satori cannot help but laugh, even as his eyes hungrily track the muscled lines of Toshi’s chest, tapering to his temptingly grabbable waist. He gives into temptation. With Toshi’s sticky sweater now discarded on the kitchen bench, Satori presses a kiss to Toshi’s cheek.

“Most people don’t surprise their fiancés at 6:30AM, by sneaking into their houses. That’s some serial killer shit.”

Toshi turns his head to bring his lips to Satori’s own in lieu of answering. Satori sighs into the kiss, feeling both more relaxed and more rejuvenated than he had in months. Love. What a powerful thing.

“That.” Toshi replies, breaking their kiss. “Was Hoshiumi-kun’s idea.”

Satori laughs again, curling his arms to pull Toshi in closer for a hug.

“Of course. Did he say something like _it’s so romantic to wake up to the one you love! Even if they haven’t seen you in six months have no clue you’re coming and might be so surprised they pour coffee on you!”_

“That was a surprisingly accurate summary of his words.” Toshi says. “I did not realise that was coffee. It was very sweet.”

“As sweet as me?” Satori asks, batting his eyelashes jokingly. Toshi’s expression softens into something indescribably familiar.

“Of course not, nothing could compare.”  
“Sap. Go shower while I make us breakfast.”

Satori manhandles Toshi out of the kitchen, waving a vague hand at where the spare towels were kept. It would be fine, Toshi had a good memory and could find them easily.

He pulls out a bowl. Cracking two eggs, giddy with happiness and falling into the calming hum of cooking.

“This is wonderful Satori.” Toshi says, still towelling his hair dry. He’d redressed not in his slacks and collared shirt, but a cream undershirt and pyjama pants that must be Satori’s because the way they clung low on Toshi’s hips and over his athletic ass was _phenomenal_. 

“Isn’t it just?” Satori replies, smug. “It’s my Christmas present to you, since I didn’t have anything else at the ready.”

“Seeing you is already enough of a gift.” Coming from anyone else, it would be a cliched line fit for a rom com, but Toshi always means it sincerely, truly, deeply. It was maddening how lovely the man was.

“Here.” Toshi continues, unaware of how he was in fact, the world’s most perfect man, “I have a present for you.”

He leads them to the living room to rummage through his open suitcase, taking each folded item out of it with care before placing them all back into their rightfully places. If this had been Satori, he would’ve flung all his clothes all over the place, but Toshi was considered and considerate in all things.

He hands Satori a small brown paper bag. Satori takes it, peers inside to find a moss green cow plush with mottled cream spots and a stern expression gazing back at home.

“Do you like it?” Toshi asks, a rare tone of uncertainty in his voice, “I should have gotten you something perhaps more suited to your tastes, but the Olympic team had marketables and I was selfish enough to want you to have this. So I can always be here with you, even when we are apart.”

Satori takes the plush out of the bag. Now, he can see that it is wearing a little red Japan national jersey, the colour clashing awfully with the pleasant green of the cow. A volleyball is sewn, attached to its left hoof.

“He is named Mooshijima.” Toshi continues, and it is a testament to how nervous he is, that he is speaking this much at all. “I am not the only one with a plush, but I had thought you would not want any others. I can mail them to you if you wish. Hinata Shoyo’s is a bird.”

“Of course he is.” Satori laughs. “I love him, thank you Toshi. Hello Mooshijima, I’m Satori. You’ll have to play second fiddle to Ushijima but I hope that’s alright with you.”

Toshi takes Mooshijima out of Satori’s hands. Puppeting it so it is nodding.

“Moo.” Toshi says, low and stern. “That is cow for yes.”

Satori howls with laughter, tackling Toshi with a hug that sends them tumbling onto his thankfully plush rug.

“You absurd man, I love you.” Satori says, bringing Toshi in for a kiss.

“Wait.” Toshi’s voice starts him. He pulls away from the kiss to take Mooshijima and set him so he is facing away from them. “We cannot let Mooshijima see. Now. Can we kiss again?”

“As many times as you want. Merry Christmas Toshi.”

"Merry Christmas Satori."


End file.
